


Years

by anasticklefics



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:22:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29806980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anasticklefics/pseuds/anasticklefics
Summary: The playful tickling Harry would endure from the twins start to mean different things as the years progress.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Fred Weasley & George Weasley
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	Years

**Year 1.**

Harry wasn’t actively watching them. Not really. The table was covered in parchments and books, his quill constantly in motion, his other hand perpetually running through his hair as if it would help him concentrate. And, occasionally, he would glance up to see the twins torture Ron, whom they claimed needed to stop frowning already. It was hard not noticing them, but the sound had stopped bothering him. It was merely out of habit that he would look up when he saw a foot or a hand enter his peripheral vision.

He barely registered when he caught George’s eye; blinking when he realized George was smirking at him. “What?”

“You getting jealous over there?”

“Uh, no?”

“You don’t sound too certain.”

And, because it was still his first year knowing this family - truly not even six months of knowing them all - Harry didn’t realize his denial would get him nowhere. Didn’t realize he probably needed to run or be very determined if he wanted to be left alone.

Harry, oblivious, just tilted his head at the older boy. “But I am.”

“I think you’re longing to join in. Don’t you worry, Harry. We wouldn’t leave you out. It doesn’t matter that you’re not a redhead.”

“What are you-”

But the twins had already abandoned a giggling Ron and were approaching him, the common room oddly empty. Harry would only realize several years later that they only messed with their siblings - and Harry - when no one else was around. Out of courtesy, or so he assumed.

He let go of his quill just in time for George to grab him, pulling him out of his chair quickly enough that Harry would have felt afraid had he not been so comfortable with them already. Something in him told him he was in trouble. He’d seen Ron in this position many times at that point, but his instincts never kicked in. He didn’t feel unsafe like he had with Dudley and therefore just didn’t react.

Feeling Fred’s fingers on his ribs changed things, naturally, but it would always confuse him how he hadn’t even attempted to run as the twins started tickling him to bits that first time. Tentatively at first, and then ruthlessly when they realized they weren’t crossing a line. Harry would learn to fear them when they turned those grins at him, but only outwardly. It brought him comfort, that playful and familiar torture. But he would put up more of a fight when he grew older, even though they told him he didn’t need to pretend. He would never be sure if they simply teased or could read him that well, but those words would always make him blush.

Now, only months into his first school year at Hogwarts, he endured their pokes and squeezes and scribbles until Ron finally came to his rescue. “Not that you ever help me,” he said, but he was grinning and Harry knew he would never live this moment down.

**Year 3.**

Harry saw their expressions from afar and knew he had to run. Mostly for show, he had to admit, but it thrilled him; leaping over couches and chairs and knowing he would get caught anyway. Fred singing behind him while George just laughed. Ron and Hermione barely batting an eye as he was finally wrestled down onto the floor, crying out when fingers found his neck and refused to leave it.

“Please!” he said, as if it would help.

“Please what?” Fred replied, his other hand, for there were four hands on his body now, moving down to toy with his lower belly.

Harry never elaborated, his pleas incoherent, but scarce. He was simply laughing, hands grabbing at whatever body part he could find, body writhing and heels digging into the floor. If they wanted they could pin him real good, like they had before. Make him unable to even squirm, but for whatever reason they were more merciful that day. Maybe because Harry had barely provoked them. They’d simply been bored and picked a victim. He was sure they would grab Ron afterward; making him squeal out curses. Harry was a more peaceful victim, at least that day.

**Year 5.**

It was a familiar comfort now. Something he didn’t always have the energy to pretend to want to flee from. That year was rough, and Fred and George could see that he needed things that he knew now more than ever. They became merciless, but in a gentle way. Always squeezing his knees and sides, but not always pinning him down for minutes at a time. And Harry appreciated it, so much so that he sought them out more than once to get some laughter forced out of him. He wasn’t above provoking, if the twins were being unusually withholding.

And while they teased, they rarely mentioned what this meant to them all. How desperately Harry could need the familial action at times.

“If I didn’t know any better,” George had said once, only once, with his hands under Harry’s arms. “I’d say you actually liked it when we tickled you.”

Harry hadn’t even had the heart to deny it.


End file.
